


Spread your wings and fly

by thisisamadhouse



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, dragon rider au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisamadhouse/pseuds/thisisamadhouse
Summary: “You shot me,” were the first words Jaime Lannister ever heard Brienne of Tarth speak, after she crashed on the beach below Casterly Rock with her dragon. Of course, at the time, he didn’t know that it was her name because she promptly passed out before saying anything else, leaving him alone with her groggy and hurt beast, which seemed to have just realised that a stranger, and thus a potential threat, had slipped past its guard and was at its mistress’ side.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 25
Kudos: 56
Collections: Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange 2020





	1. Oathkeeper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TreeOfTime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreeOfTime/gifts).



> Well, no more time to stall! Of course I would publish on the last day of the exchange! So sorry about that, life just kept getting in the way. This is my first time posting in this fandom so I would really love to know if this is worth continuing. I hope you enjoy!

“You shot me,” were the first words Jaime Lannister ever heard Brienne of Tarth speak, after she crashed on the beach below Casterly Rock with her dragon. Of course, at the time, he didn’t know that it was her name because she promptly passed out before saying anything else, leaving him alone with her groggy and hurt beast, which seemed to have just realised that a stranger, and thus a potential threat, had slipped past its guard and was at its mistress’ side.

 _The Targaryens and their thrice damned dragons_ , he thought as the creature considered whether he would suffice as its next meal or not. He had left King’s Landing to avoid them and here they came, plummeting down the sky to his doorstep.

He divested himself from his weapons, sack, and part of his armor to show that he was no menace, his insides clenching, sweat pouring down the nape of his neck and along his back, as the dragon considered him for a long while before finally relenting to let him tend to its rider.

As Jaime grabbed a clean rag from his sack and tipped some water from his goatskin onto it to wipe off the blood from her head wound, he realised how young the girl was. Though girl was a generous term, he pondered, studying her more closely. It was as if the Smith and the Warrior had put her together with spare parts that had no business fitting together, everything was too broad, too coarse, except for those eyes that he had barely had the chance to glimpse, perhaps a kindness from the Maiden, so wide and so blue they had been. Of the Targaryens, she only had the coloring, but none of the beauty, even her pale hair looked more like dirty straw than silky strands of gold or silver, but she had to be one of them, how else could she ride a dragon? 

None of it made sense: two riderless dragons appearing out of nowhere to attack the Rock, closely followed by a larger, but mounted one, which had tried to get in their way and lure them from their intended target? Was it the Dance of the Dragons all over again? 

Jaime’s father hadn’t cared much about which side the beasts were on, he had ordered the soldiers manning the scorpions to shoot. While the smaller two had only been grazed, enough for them to flee, the mounted one’s right wing had been pierced through. Jaime had watched in horror as it plunged to the sea, bringing its rider with it. It had taken him longer than he would have liked to gather some supplies, escape from the Rock without attracting attention, and go down to the beach. He just couldn’t believe that they were both dead, that his father had so ruthlessly killed someone who had tried to help them.

He had found them dragging their way onto the sand, and by the time he had gotten close enough, the rider had been down to her last ounce of strength, and here they were. Jaime raised his eyes upwards to look at the dragon. Its wings and the scales were so white that they shone in the blinding light of the setting sun, along with its silver claws and crest; its underbelly was the pale blue of a cloudless sky, and its eyes… _Oh_ , Jaime thought, _sapphires, like its mistress_. It was gently blowing smoke on its injured wing, slowing the bleeding. It was oddly mesmerizing to watch.

Jaime looked back down when the girl groaned. She brought her hand up to her forehead and winced when she encountered the cut and the bump developing around it.

“You shouldn’t exert yourself too much, my Lady. This was quite an impressive fall,” he said.

Her eyes flew open at his words. “Am no Lady,” she mumbled, staring at him warily.

“Could have fooled me,” Jaime quipped. “Would you like some water?” He offered, holding up his goatskin, but she continued to study him suspiciously, looking around, noticing his armor laying on the sand.

“You shot me,” she repeated.

He sighed. “I’m afraid you have the wrong Lannister, it was my father who ordered our men to shoot you down.”

“You’re Jaime Lannister?” She asked, her eyes widening, and, Gods, she really needed to stop doing that.

“The one and only,” he replied, wondering what she had heard about him. “And with whom do I have the honor of speaking?” 

She bit her full bottom lip, hesitating for a moment, before answering. “Brienne of Tarth.”

Jaime frowned. “Tarth? I didn’t know of any Targaryen marrying a Tarth in recent years.”

The girl seemed confused. “We have the blood, not the name, and no claim to the Throne.”

“And yet you happen to ride a dragon," Jaime insisted. "How is that possible?” He demanded to know, more perplexed than ever.

“My parents placed a dragon egg in my crib when I was born, and it hatched,” she replied, simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to happen to a newborn.

Jaime scrubbed his face with his hand. “Are there so many dragon eggs laying around now that the Targaryens would let any noble house give them to their children?”

There was that lip bite again, as she thought about what she could reveal. The girl was a poor liar, he was certain of it, and he took pity on her. “Night is falling, this can probably wait until we have found you a safe place to recover.”

“I am not leaving my dragon behind,” she said, without missing a beat.

“You are a pigheaded one, aren’t you? Should have expected that from a rider able to survive such a tumble,” he shook his head, amused. “Let’s get you up,” he added, rising to his feet himself, and holding out his hand to her. 

Grabbing his right arm with her left hand, she sat up slowly, grimacing all the while. She pushed through the pain of her most certainly broken ribs as far as Jaime could judge, and started to extend her right arm before yelping loudly.

Jaime froze as the dragon let out a threatening growl, and he suddenly felt the heat of its breath on his back.

“ _Iosrūljā, Kivio Raeliros, iosrūljā_ ,” Brienne panted, bending her injured arm against her chest, protectively.

The beast almost knocked Jaime out of its way as it hurriedly lowered its massive head to press it against its mistresses’. The girl’s face barely covered her dragon’s snout, but she didn’t quiver, only whispered words in High Valyrian that Jaime could neither hear nor understand, patting its muzzle gently. The beast _purred_ under her ministrations, and Jaime exhaled in relief. 

“I’m sorry,” Brienne said. “She is very protective.”

“You got yourself a loyal pet, but out of the many ways to die, being eaten by a dragon is pretty low on my list.”

She nodded. “I don’t imagine there could be anything more thrilling for a knight than the glory of battle to spend his last moments.”

 _I would rather spend them in the arms of the woman I love_ , he contemplated with a fleeting thought for Cersei, all the way east in Storm’s End with her boorish Baratheon husband. Though these days the connection with his twin, which had once seemed unbreakable, seemed to be nothing more than a memory. His letters had long gone unanswered, and they hadn’t heard much from the Stormlands these past couple of years, but then that was true for most of the other Kingdoms as well. The fear of the dragons in King’s Landing had driven all the defectors to hide away in their own fortresses and prepare for the worst.

Jaime pulled himself out of his somber thoughts. “Is that something you wish for yourself, my Lady?” He regretted his mocking tone the moment she looked away, her face burning in shame.

“I am not a knight, nor could I ever be,” she replied bitterly.

“And yet you have done more today than many knights will do in their entire lives. I apologize for my rudeness, being cloistered here all this time hasn’t brought out the best in me,” Jaime shouldered his burlap sack and offered her his arm again. “Lean on me. There should be enough empty caves around here for you two to hide before my father feels it is safe to send back the patrols.”

She looked doubtful. “I am too heavy.”

Jaime smirked. “Oh, believe me, I’m strong enough.” With that he pulled her up, slinging her left arm over his shoulders. For a moment he thought she was going to pass out again, but she was made of sterner stuff. She breathed in and out slowly with her eyes closed and her jaw clenched tightly enough to break some teeth, and after a while she managed to stand straighter.

“Ready?” He asked, and she nodded.

“ _Māzigon lēda nyke_ _Kivio Raeliros_ ,” she told her dragon, and the beast followed as they made slow progress up the beach towards the caves at the bottom of the Rock. 

Jaime was glad that the tide would wipe out their traces because there would be no hiding their presence otherwise. He offered Brienne to take a break a couple times, but she refused, he suspected that she was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to go on if she stopped.

Finally they entered the largest cave Jaime could remember from his childhood adventures with Cersei.

“You should be comfortable here. I have clean clothes, furs and some food for you, and this pool here fills with the tide, should provide enough fish for your pet,” he explained as he helped her settle down on a smooth rock formation just above said pool, letting her catch her breath.

The last rays of sunlight rushed into the cave, allowing them to see clearly enough, and they were beneath a light well through which the moon shone brightly on a clear night.

Brienne was looking at him strangely. “Arthur Dayne did speak highly of you”, she whispered.

“You know Ser Arthur?” Jaime hadn’t seen his former mentor in years, and it had been such volatile times when he had left King’s Landing that they had never had the chance to talk. He had been certain that Arthur Dayne thought the worst of him. 

Brienne nodded. “There were rumours about my dragon, he was sent to Tarth to see if they were true. He told me to hide her, to never speak of her to people I couldn’t trust, that he would lie to the King. My life depended on it, he said. When I asked him why he would disobey his King to save me, he said that he once annointed a young man, and he wished to ever be as brave as that knight was when he killed his King.”

Jaime was stunned. Nightmares about that day still had him waking up screaming. To hear that Ser Arthur thought that his actions deserved praise was a balm he didn’t know he needed. 

“That day changed everything for all of the Seven Kingdoms,” he whispered.

“You couldn’t know what would happen. I have to admit that I thought you were nothing more than a Kingslayer and an oathbreaker before meeting Ser Arthur. King Viserys has tried to turn the people against you, threatening to torture and kill those who were there that day and who would wish to tell the truth. I’m afraid he has inherited his father’s madness,” Brienne told him, eyes brimming with sadness.

Jaime thought about Queen Rhaella, who had loved her children so much and had tried to protect them from the worst of Aerys’ folly. How must she feel at the sight of her son following in his father’s footsteps? It was no surprise that he would paint Jaime as the villain in his story, and it didn’t hurt him as much as he thought it would.

“If I had known that Aerys burning into that pyre would really make those dragon eggs hatch I would have thought twice about pushing him in,” Jaime said, grimacing as he remembered the gruesome sight and unbearable smell.

That day, with his first born son dead, the Baratheon armies at the city gates, and no more allies to rely on, Aerys had lost the last grip on his sanity. He had wanted to go out in a blaze, leaving no one and nothing behind for Robert Baratheon to conquer. As he had watched the godswood be hacked off into a funeral pile, Aerys had ordered his pyromancers to light the wildfire stocked throughout the city. In his delusion that he would be reborn as a dragon, he had thought that he could also bring to life three dragon eggs that a Pentoshi magister had gifted him after the birth of Prince Viserys. A life for a life Aerys had been told, and when Jaime had seen the guards dragging a screaming Elia Martell with her children, he had understood what it meant. The King had planned to sacrifice his son’s wife and children. With the flames growing around the eggs, Elia’s cries had become more desperate as she had tried to shield Rhaenys and Aegon from what would be coming, and Jaime had snapped out of the torpor that had plagued him for weeks. 

In a move that neither he nor the others had anticipated, he had pushed Aerys into the fire. The silence that had followed had been deafening, until the screeches of pain had started. Jaime had expected the guards to run him through there and there, but instead Arthur Dayne, who had looked like the shadow of himself ever since his return from a mysterious assignment at the Tower of Joy, had ordered them to go after the fleeing pyromancers. Rossart, Garigus and Belis had been added to the pyre, and after long moments they had all watched, incredulously, as among the flames the eggs had cracked open and three cat-sized creatures had emerged. 

The sight and the smell of the men’s burned flesh had clung to Jaime until he had choked on it. He had retched and heaved, falling to his knees, but Arthur Dayne had pulled him up, sending him to help settle an hysterical Elia and her terrified children, and had walked to the still smoking pyre to take the newborn dragons in his arms. 

The Kingsguard had marched through the city to the Gate of the Gods where Robert Baratheon had been waiting, trying to find a way into the capital. He had presented the hatchlings to the soldiers assembled below, and the shrieks of the little beasts had terrified them. Jaime had never really understood what had happened, but in the end, King’s Landing and his inhabitants had been saved. Robert, who had already killed Rhaegar at the Trident and had lost Lyanna Stark, was not that interested in ruling all of the Seven Kingdoms, and had taken his men back to the Stormlands, declaring them independent. Dorne, the North, the Iron Islands, the Vale, the Riverlands and the Westerlands had been all too happy to follow, eager for a change in leadership. 

Only the Reach had remained faithful to the Targaryens. No one else had thought that the newly crowned Viserys could keep the dragons alive and train them to do his bidding. Obviously, they had been wrong. 

“I did not mean to upset you with painful memories, Ser,” Brienne’s remorseful tone brought him back to the present.

“We should tend to your wounds,” he said, adding, when she seemed about to protest: “You haven’t upset me, my Lady. I tend to avoid thinking about those times, but even if the outcome has not been the most desirable one, Aerys’ death was necessary. Now, let’s take care of you. You need dry clothes.”

She flushed at his suggestion, drawing away and avoiding his eyes. A dozen quips came to his mind about blushing maids, but he resisted the impulse.

“I can turn away if you want, but with those ribs and that arm, I don’t think you will be able to do much on your own. I promise you your virtue is safe with me,” to his surprise, she winced, and he had the impression that he had said the wrong thing, though he wasn’t sure what it was.

She turned her back to him as he rummaged through his sack to find the tunic, breeches, vest and furs he had thrown in there. He shook his head as she groaned in discomfort while unbuttoning and taking off her heavy white vest, so stubborn she was.

Her blue and rose tunic was drenched, clinging to her, and she reluctantly did ask him for help to tear it off. He sucked in a breath at the sight of the deep claw scars marking her broad shoulders.

“Did she do that to you?” He exclaimed, raising a hand to trace them and pulling back at the last minute.

Brienne nodded. “She liked to hold on to me when she was a hatchling, but she didn’t realise her strength. She never meant to hurt me.”

“My brother has always had a fascination for them, I never really understood it. It seems like such a huge leap of faith to put your life in such sharp talons,” Jaime commented, as he wrapped a cloth around her chest and pulled it tight. 

She whimpered, breathing shallowly for a few moments.

“I will try to find you some willow bark when I return. Milk of the poppy would probably be more helpful for you to rest comfortably, but…”

“No,” she muttered. “I want to keep a clear head.”

“I expected as much,” Jaime replied with a smirk. “Let’s get that tunic on you before you freeze.”

He was almost sorry to cover those muscles of hers. What was wrong with him? 

“When you’re well enough, we should spar. I am really curious to see how skilled you are with a sword,” he told her, with just enough innuendo for her to blush again. He was enjoying this way too much.

“How do you know that I can fight?”

“Oh, I know. What else would a headstrong, noble lady who was able to bond with a dragon do?”

“They say you were the best of your generation.”

“Still am, my Lady, still am, and I will prove it, but that arm needs to heal first.”

They faced each other again and he looped a long strip of cloth around her neck, tying it beneath her slightly elevated arm. “That will have to do until I bring back a proper splint.”

“You keep saying that you will return, but you’re already taking a huge risk helping me. If we’re found, you would be in danger as well,” she protested.

“As if that would stop me. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t intervened. The Rock is strong, we can withstand most of anything the Targaryens throw at us, but you still put your life on the line to help us, I can’t decently leave you to your fate if there is anything I can do. They may want people to think that I am nothing more than a Kingslayer, and an oathbreaker, but I haven’t forgotten my vows. I haven’t had a chance to honor them recently, but I still remember the day Arthur Dayne pronounced them like it was yesterday.” Just like Brienne had scars, Jaime still had the marks from where the greatsword Dawn had been placed on his shoulders. 

He stood up. “There should be enough in there to get you through the night. I will be back as soon as I can,” he said, indicating the sack by her feet. “Will you manage?” 

She nodded. “Thank you.”

Jaime inclined his head, and made his way out. He stopped suddenly. “I meant to ask, what’s her name?” He asked, throwing a look towards the dragon focusing her sapphire eyes on the slowly filling pool.

“Oathkeeper.”


	2. Golden and god-like

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for taking so much time to update this story, life just keeps getting in the way! It will be completed, I'm trying as hard as I can to find time to finish this, but not before the reveal I'm afraid! Anyway, I'm so grateful for the response I got on the first chapter. I feel so rusty at writing, those comments were some much needed encouragements! I hope you keep enjoying this story! Also ten points to your house if you find the Harry Potter quote in there ;)

The pain kept Brienne awake for most of the night as she tried to find a comfortable position to sleep without putting too much pressure on her ribs and her arm, and it was only when Oathkeeper had her fill of fish from the pool and came to lie down beside her, infusing warmth into her sore body, that she was able to close her eyes and rest. Guilt and fear were gnawing at her, and her dragon could feel it. They had been bonded for thirteen years, ever since the egg hatched on the night her brother’s body had been found, washed up on the shore below Evenfall. With Galladon gone, and her necessary isolation, Oathkeeper became her only friend, they could feel each other’s emotions with just a look, a touch. Her dragon relied on her, and Brienne didn’t know how to live in a world where her companion was no more, but she had just almost cost Oathkeeper her life on their first trip out of Tarth, it didn’t bode well for the future. 

Her restless hours gave her time to think. Her encounter with Jaime Lannister had rattled her about as much as her near-death experience. Ser Arthur had said that if she ever needed help she could get it from his former Kingsguard brother. From his tales and the rumors she had heard over the years, she drew a picture in her mind of what he could be like, but she hadn’t expected him to be so much more than her imaginings: golden and god-like, intense wildfire green eyes that seemed to want to look right into her soul, a smile in turns cutting and kind, his strength as he supported her weight effortlessly. He was a knight straight from a song, and if she wasn’t careful, Brienne could very well fall under his charms. It had taken far less for her to lose her heart to Renly years ago. She couldn’t afford to do it again. 

Though she would be stuck here until Oathkeeper recovered enough, she had a mission to follow through, and time was running out if Viserys had managed to send the dragons to do his bidding. Maybe, if he came back, Jaime Lannister could assist her. It would require sharing her story with him, and that went against every instinct she had cultivated for years now. It already felt like she had said too much. 

Ser Jaime did come back the next day, and the day after that, bringing more provisions with him each time, and more questions. He seemed to have an inexhaustible amount of those, from her origins (“My great grandparents on my father’s side were Daella Targaryen and Ser Duncan the Tall, their daughter married my grandfather, I’m sure you can work out the rest by yourself”), to her dragon’s (“From the stories my father told me, Aemon Targaryen gave his dragon egg to his niece, the first child born from one of his dear sisters, and it stayed in the family”), with some about his former charges thrown in between (“Ser Arthur said that Elia Martell is still in Dorne with her brothers and children, like all of us they are preparing for the worst, trying to anticipe King Viserys’ next move”). 

It was draining. Never had anyone paid her so much attention, wanting to know about her, hear her thoughts. She wasn’t used to talking to others, she kept away from most people on Tarth. To protect their secret her father had even given a position to her cousin at Evenfall, leading everyone to believe that he would bequeath the lands and title to him, and not to Brienne, upon his death. It had discouraged any potential suitors still brave enough to attempt to ask for her hand. Jaime either didn’t notice, or, which was more likely, didn’t care about her awkwardness. 

She had some hope that the part about Duncan the Tall being her ancestor would shut him up for a bit, and it worked… for about five seconds, and then his face lit up.

“That’s where the height comes from. I wonder if you inherited his strength as well. I guess I will find out sooner rather than later,” the mere idea seemed to make him salivate.

She wished that her arm would heal up quickly, it was an enticing prospect to know that they would duel in the near future, and maybe she would have the chance to wipe that smirk off his face.

On the third day, his queries were all about the Targaryen King and his family.

“Viserys was a strange child, overprotected by his father. I can’t believe becoming King improved his character,” Jaime said, adding fresh bread to the stew he had brought her that evening, and handing it to her.

“It didn’t,” Brienne confirmed as she balanced the bowl on her knees, clumsily holding the spoon in her non-dominant hand. “He thinks himself as Aegon reborn, that he is destined to reconquer the world. He is paranoid and cruel. keeping his family and council on a tight leash. The dragons don’t let him ride them, he can’t bond with them, so he abuses them instead, keeps them chained in the Dragonpit. You only saw two the other day because the third one is too weak to fly. He hurts Rhaegal in front of the others to make them fear and obey him.”

“Why don’t they attack him?” Jaime asked, horrified.

“They have never known anything else. They don’t know how to hunt by themselves. Draegon, the black one, was thought to be Balerion come again when he hatched, but his growth has been stifled so much that he will never reach his true potential,” Brienne explained between spoonfuls of stew.

“How do you know so much about what’s happening in the capital if Viserys is so distrustful?”

 _It was time_ , Brienne thought, _this would make or break their budding friendship_.

She gulped down the last of her bowl, took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. “Despite his attempts to sway them, there are people close to the Throne who would like to see Viserys deposed and replaced by his sister, the Princess Daenerys. She seems to be of sounder mind, and of gentler disposition towards the dragons. Viserys has kept her shut off with their mother, who has never really recovered from being delivered of the princess, but those who managed to speak to her say that she is a sweet child, well-read with a gift for learning languages, that she seems to have inherited Rhaegar’s best qualities,” she paused, glancing at her dragon. “When Ser Arthur visited me, he said that there would come a time when those people would reach out to me, ask for my help, and that I would have a choice to make between what is easy and what is right.”

For once, she couldn’t read Jaime, his face was blank, almost stony.

“Oathkeeper,” he said at last. “You made your choice long ago,” he added, and Brienne nodded. “You will let them use you to make Viserys give up his crown and bend the knee to his sister,” he resumed.

“The realms have gone through so much in recent years, we need peace, to rebuild together, and with a nonviolent transition we could achieve that,” she told him passionately, but he didn’t seem convinced.

He raked his fingers through his hair and scrubbed his face roughly, one of his knees bouncing nervously.

“You make it sound easy, but it still is a coup. Viserys and his supporters won’t go down without a fight, and you will be caught in the middle.”

“He doesn’t have many of those anymore, not enough to make a difference, and not in key positions. The Kingsguard are on our side, most of the Council, even the Reach is ready to support Daenerys.”

Jaime exhaled forcefully. “I can’t believe I’m not the one saying that but it’s reckless.”

“It’s necessary!” Brienne exclaimed, desperate to make him see her point. “Don’t you wish to be able to leave this place, to travel, go to tourneys, see your sister again?” She pleaded, biting her bottom lip when his eyes snapped to hers.

“What do you know of my sister?” He demanded sharply, seizing her left arm and getting close enough that she felt his breath on her face.

“I… I know… I know that she holds Storm’s End,” Brienne stammered, stunned by his reaction. “Robert Baratheon is a drunkard, who cares more about his whores than his wife and children, than his people even. Your sister, Stannis and Renly are fighting for the control of the Stormlands, and Cersei has prepared Storm’s End to hold up either a siege or a dragon attack. She asked for the bannermen’s support. Jaime,” she added, when he didn’t ease up the pressure. “could you let go of my arm?”

He dropped his hand abruptly and backed away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s your sister, I understand.”

“I hope that you don’t,” he whispered, and left.

* * *

She avoided bringing back the subject in the days that followed, and he seemed only too happy to pretend that nothing had happened. He rather focused on asking her more details about her correspondence with the rebels in King’s Landing.

She told him as much as she dared, still trying her hardest to convince him, but he seemed to struggle with coming to a decision, which sounded out of character. From what she had gathered, Jaime appeared to be the kind of person who acted first and thought about it later.

About a week after her abrupt arrival at Casterly Rock, Jaime didn’t come at the usual time, and Brienne, having spent the day testing her arm’s mobility and loosening the binding around her ribs, was aching all over. She slowly lowered herself into the pool that Oathkeeper warmed up for her to bathe. Through the steam, she saw Jaime barging in not long after, looking more agitated than ever. She curled up on herself with a hiss of pain when he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of her. 

“You know what, it may not be a bad idea,” he said, and her mouth fell open as he started to take off his clothes.

“What are you doing?” She spluttered.

“Trying to make sense of it all,” he replied, putting his breeches on the ground, and Brienne looked away blushing from the roots of her hair down to her chest. Golden and god-like, she wasn’t wrong about that.

“I meant, what are you doing in my bath?” She muttered, trying not to look at him, but failing miserably.

“I need to unwind,” he said, sounding amused, and obviously well-aware of her covert glances as he settled with his arms spread wide over the outside of the pool. “You have given me quite the dilemma, my Lady, and much food for thought. According to my family, it’s not what I do best,” he said, derisively. “If I help you and we fail, I would put my whole family at risk. If I don’t and something happens to you, I’m not sure I could live with myself .”

“It was selfish of me to ask this of you, Ser Jaime. This isn’t your quest,” Brienne tried to let him off the hook, but he wouldn’t have it.

“I swore vows, and if this isn’t the time to be just and defend the innocent, I don’t know when such a time will come.”

“I would gladly accept your help, Ser,” Brienne told him eagerly.

“I hope you won’t come to regret it. Being allied with a Lannister won’t help you make friends. We are far from being beyond reproach, myself more than most,” he said somberly.

“I don’t have many friends, so it won’t affect me,” she affirmed.

He chuckled. “My sweet sister used to say the same. She never knew how to make friends and keep them. And yet you seem so much gentler than her.”

Brienne grimaced at being compared to the Lady of Storm’s End.

“You don’t think much of her, do you?” Jaime smirked.

“I don’t know her,” Brienne said truthfully.

“But what you heard was enough to forge an opinion,” he insisted. “It usually is, and you wouldn’t be wrong. Cersei wanted to have the world at her feet, I don’t want to imagine what she would have done if she had heard about you and your dragon.”

“Still, you miss her.”

“Maybe I miss the idea of her, of what we were, what we shared. One person in two bodies she used to say. So close we were, too close.”

Something in his tone made Brienne gasp, and Jaime’s gaze snapped to hers.

“Do I disgust you my Lady? Do you see now why my presence would ruin you and your mission?”

“What you did in your youth doesn’t concern me,” she managed to say, despite the lump in her throat.

“Even if the only reason why I joined the Kingsguard was to be with her? Even if I probably would have kept going to her if Robert Baratheon had taken the Throne and made her his Queen?” 

“The good you did while wearing the white cloak outweighs it.”

“How can I refuse you anything when you speak so courteously?”

Yet, it seemed he could, for the next day, as she led Oathkeeper out of the cave to test her wings, a small garrison of Lannister guards surrounded her and brought her to Tywin Lannister.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think?
> 
> High Valyrian translation:  
> Iosrūljā = Cool down  
> Māzigon lēda nyke Kivio Raeliros= Come with me, Oathkeeper


End file.
